[Note: Reductio ad absurdum is not a kind of explanation… despite it’s popularity as modern explanatory tool]

It’s a rather hackneyed truth that, in order to successfully solve a problem, one has to first correctly define the problem. It’s also true, however, that knowing this has not rendered human beings any more successful (in general) at describing the former, or, therefore, achieving the latter. I think it fair to say that in somewhat well-circumscribed conditions a limited number of individuals and groups have managed to improve their “batting average”. I guess it’s also fair to admit that neither life nor history are static, and that the successful solution of one problem often leads to the revelation of another, or many other problems. The journey better be worthwhile for its own sake, because point B seems to be infinitiely distant from point A sometimes. And, contrary to Lao-Tse’s pithy (and wise) declaration, the journey of a thousand li may begin beneath one’s feet, but it often ends there as well.

Why do we fail so often to understand problems in a manner which makes their solution similarly easy to discern? I think it may be because, even before we’ve begun to address the problem, we settle upon the kind of explanation which will give us comfort. Having thus decided upon the kind of explanation we need, our perspective on the source of the problem, and our choices in terms of response, are already subconsciously constrained. Normally, as a philosopher by choice (some might say pedant by nature) and consultant by profession, I might be tempted to settle upon some sort of dualist model, but I have been applying some notions which have emerged from experience rather than theory, and have settled on four (well, three plus a catch-all for everything else): results-based explanations, process-oriented explanations, value conformity explanations, and random explanations.

Let’s start with the last of these, and quickly dismiss it for now. Random explanations are all those descriptions of the existing state of affairs, the current problem and proposed action wherein either the underlying truths, perceived issue or connection between either and the “solution” relies upon one of the following: non sequiturs, already disproven “facts”, a mechanism which cannot effect the changes it’s meant to, or an appeal to mystical powers whose existence must be asserted and accepted on faith. I call all of these kinds of explanation “random” because I view them as equal in terms of explanatory power, and equally capable of being replaced by any other random explanation whatsoever. For me, the problem with appeals to deities is not that faith is misguided or that I can prove those deities don’t exist, but rather that anything at all can replace the deity(ies) in such religious-type explanations. Even a flying spaghetti monster. The consequence being that we cannot discover any principles buried in such explanations which we could put into action to solve our own problems. These are non-explanations, or at best, ineffective explanations.

That leaves three categories of effective explanations. From a functional point-of-view, all explanations look on their face to be what I am calling “results based’, meaning, the purpose of the explanation is to provide us with a discreet course of action which will yield a measurable positive result. This includes the totality of random explanations, if one regarded maintaining comforting illusions as a “measurable positive result”; though some do, I don’t.